AN: I would like to thank you all for continuing to stick with Dark Times and for reading and commenting and messaging me - I appreciate every one.
The next few posts will be smaller, sometimes just a few thousands words, some only a few hundred words. There are eight Interludes that bridge the gap between Chapter 6 and Chapter 7. The Interludes are small scenes that focus on one character and are designed to carry the story along in little flashes and snippets before we launch back into the story properly. (A little like I did with the Penumbra series). They will, hopefully, allow the reader to understand what has been happening, or not happening, in the weeks following the events on Horaarn the ended with Luke being shot.
My thanks, as always, goes to Kazlynh for beta reading (and you really need to check out her fic on this site!).
Disclaimer: As always I have no claim of copyright to the characters and situations of the Star Wars Universe. I merely play in Lucasfilm/Disney's sandbox for fun and not profit. However, Erwin Rhovan is mine... and Ysabel Jaconti belongs to my good friend Louise T.
Dark Times: Interludes
Grief
"I am your Master."
Leia opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling through the cloying darkness, wondering what had wakened her so abruptly. She lay still, waiting for an alarm or the chirp of a comlink, something that could have snapped her out of her sleep... but there was nothing.
It wasn't silent in her quarters by any description. She could hear the hum of the generators even at this distance as they worked to provide the base with light and heat. She could hear movement and muted voices in the corridor beyond the closed door as people passed by. She could hear the tick of the pipes that ran across her ceiling, providing her room with some modicum of warmth.
There was nothing that she could identify as being out of place and yet she felt unsettled and uneasy as though something was terribly wrong.
Turning on the cot, pulling her bedding tighter to her body, Leia closed her eyes, trying to pacify her mind and return to the peaceful slumber she had been enjoying. She had been getting precious little of it these last few weeks: since the Alliance evacuated Adralii as a precautionary measure after Horaarn and recalled ships before heading to this Force-forsaken place.
Hoth.
Bleak, miserable and cold. Covered in ice and snow and suffering temperatures so cold that your very breath could freeze if outside at night.
But it was beautiful, too. Stunning vistas of snow-covered mountains, dunes and drifts of snow that the sun glinted from at noon and a sky, sometimes so vibrant blue that it reminded her of Luke's eyes.
Luke.
Luke would have loved it.
Luke.
Her throat tightened and, sucker-punched by emotion, she gulped in a breath as she sat up and threw the covers aside, gasping for air. "Ah… Ah…"
She tried to stifle her grief, tried to swallow the anguish and the cries it threatened to tear from her.
Sitting in the dark, on the edge of her bed, head down and arms folded across her stomach, Leia tried to control the wave of sorrow and guilt that she could not allow to engulf her.
Luke.
Oh, Luke.
You left me!
It was a scream in her head. It was denial and anger and guilt all in the same feeling, all building within and looking for a release.
I couldn't save you. Tears beginning to flow, she looked to the ceiling, as though she could see through it, as though she could see him somewhere above her. I tried, I really tried.
"You wouldn't fight," she whispered fiercely into the darkness. "You wouldn't fight! Why didn't you fight?"
It was the same lament… the same words, the same feelings, the same blow of that awful realisation that drove the air from her body and had the strength to fell her.
Luke was dead.
He's not.
Dead.
No!
Dead and gone.
And still it didn't seem quite true. Didn't feel true. Despite his absence, despite the sheer lack of him, it still felt unreal. Until these moments, when the truth became too much and reality, comprehension, slammed home.
Luke was dead.
A very public death, live on the holonet.
They should have gone back. They should have turned the Falcon around and gone back for him and to hell with the Horaarns. They should have tried.
We should have tried harder. We shouldn't have listened to you. Han shouldn't have listened to you.
Godsdammit, Luke, what were you thinking?
He was thinking of you! He told Han to get you out… he told Han that Vader would let us go if he didn't fight.
"Oh, Luke," his name was a warm whisper of air in a chilled room.
I miss you…
After Escaal I should have spent more time with you. I shouldn't have allowed Mothma to take up so much of my time. I should have…
"I should have been there for you and…"
…and what? What could I have done for you? Would it have made any difference to how you were feeling? Would it have helped you reconcile your experiences just because I was there?
Of course not…
"…but I should have still been there."
Leia wiped at her eyes and palmed on the light switch above her bed and a dull glow illuminated much of the room, casting pale shadows into the white starkness. She may as well get up, there was no point in trying to find sleep for the rest of this night. Her mind would just go around in circles. She would just replay events in her mind, looking for the small nuances, the little shades and tones that would taunt and tease her with the mistakes that she had made.
Mon Mothma had suggested she spend some time with Therriman, the Mirialan therapist Luke had been seeing following Escaal and Cusrean, but she couldn't bring herself to sit with him. She would be too tempted to ask about Luke, too tempted to question why he had acted the way he had, why he hadn't fought more on Horaarn.
You know why! Han told you! It was for you, it was to save you. It was all for you! His death is on you!
"Stop it, Leia," she chided, herself. "Stop it… this does you no good. Let it go…"
Let him go…
She ignored her inner suggestion and slipped her feet into the boots by her bed. Despite the panelling the Alliance had put on the floor of this room, it was still too cold to stand on.
Ice.
It was all ice; the floor, the walls the ceiling… cold, unyielding, ice.
Luke had died in the cold. He had died lying on compacted snow: ice.
Beginning to shiver she reached out and grabbed her clothes, quickly pulling on the padded, insulated pants and jacket, beginning to wish that she had taken up Han's offer of a bunk on the Falcon, but she had been adamant that if the front line troops of the Alliance suffered this cold and these quarters then so would she.
Leia wiped at her face again, dried her eyes with her sleeve. She had braided her hair before retiring for the night. Now, she worked them into a presentable style. Her hands moved instinctively, weaving her hair without thought. She reached for the small cabinet by her bed, her hand searching the smooth top for a hairgrip. She knocked something heavy and it fell onto the floor.
Sighing, she grabbed a clasp and fastened her hair in place before looking for the dropped object.
She froze, staring at the lightsaber lying on the ice.
Han had found it sitting on one of the bunks in the sleeping area of the Falcon just after their escape from Horaarn. After the jump to lightspeed he had insisted that Leia take a rest and had gone into the cabin to clear a bunk for her. The lightsaber had been sitting securely on a pillow, Luke's fatigues scattered thoughtlessly on the floor.
Han's face had been grim, his eyes dark with grief and pain. He picked up the lightsaber and handed it to her. "You can give it back to him, when we get him out."
Leia had taken it, kept it and now she held it in her hand knowing she would never be able to return it to Luke, because Luke was dead and had probably already been dead by the time Han had lifted the lightsaber from that pillow.
Luke was gone…
"We think it was a mercy killing," Mon Mothma had told them when they arrived back at Adralii.
But there was nothing merciful about Luke's death, nothing merciful about being shot in the chest and being left to die trussed up and gasping for a breath while your enemy loomed over you live on the holonet.
Leia closed her eyes in pain. That Luke had to die like that, that he had to die with Vader being the last person to be with him, that the Dark Lord of the Sith was Luke's last sight was unbearable for her. His pain, his anguish, tormented her.
"I want to see," she had demanded after she and Han had been told of Luke's fate.
They had all been escorted from the Falcon to Mon's private office by Rieekan himself. They were bone weary on arrival but the sorrow in Rieekan's face on greeting them had driven a new spike of fear through them. It had chased the fatigue from them, left them jittery and on edge as the General refused to tell them what else had gone wrong until they were in a private area. The whole base was subdued and quiet. Leia had spotted Ysabel Jaconti. Standing by the cooling X-Wings, the engineer had been openly sobbing as she hugged a stricken Wedge Antilles.
That Jaconti was so visible upset shook Leia; she had considered the Chief Tech as being unflinching, unflappable. No matter the losses, Jaconti got on with the job and took care of her pilots and their ships. But, not now. Now the woman was distraught as she clung to Antilles.
Stepping into Mon's office they found the Stateswoman rising from one of her battered couches to greet them. She looked troubled, she looked as though she hadn't slept in days...
"Leia…." Mon greeted, taking Leia's hands in her own. She nodded to Han, Haslam and Chewbacca. "Captain Solo, Chewbacca, Private… It… it's good to see you all safe." She gestured to the furniture. "Please sit."
Mon sat, not letting go of Leia's hands. The elder stateswoman sat by her looking worn and troubled.
It's Luke, Leia thought, with a rush of consternation. Something's happened to Luke.
Mon had paused while they all sat. Rieekan remained standing, his face drawn and grim.
"You won't have seen the holonet," Mon started, stating the obvious. They had been fighting a battle to get away from Horaarn. They had spent most of the return journey on repairs and staunchly ignoring the fact their friend had been handed to the Imperials, and that the young sergeant, Thecla Da'amalan, was missing somewhere on Horaarn and unable to get back to the Alliance.
"There's no easy way to say this, Leia, but," and she turned further around to the Princess, her hands tightening on Leia's, "Lieutenant Commander Skywalker is dead."
Leia's memory of that day, of that moment, was as fresh now as it was when it happened four weeks ago. Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened on the lightsaber.
At first she had been confused. At first she had thought Mothma had misinterpreted the court's verdict, but then Han had asked…
"What happened?"
Mon swallowed, looking closely at Leia. "We've examined the available footage as closely as possible and we can…"
"What happened?" Han said again, his voice cold.
Mon sighed. "They took him out to the shuttle. As he entered he was shot in the chest and fell back down its ramp. Just before the feed was cut one of the holonet camera's managed to capture the inside of the shuttle. We've identified the shooter as Sergeant Da'amalan. She was dressed in the uniform of an Imperial Naval Officer."
Haslam was on his feet. "No way, nah-uh. Not the Sarg, she's as straight as a…"
"Sit down, Private!" Rieekan barked, using his authority and Haslam's respect for him, to calm the soldier.
Haslam sat, face pale, clearly distressed.
"We don't believe she is Imperial," Mon advised, soothing the soldier's ire. "We think she managed to infiltrate the shuttle crew. We think it was a mercy killing."
"I want to see," Leia demanded, surprised to hear her voice. She had felt the blood drain from her face, had felt the numbness descend as her mind and body tried to protect her from an awful truth.
Mon glanced up at Rieekan and nodded. The holoscreen in the office flickered and they watched in silence.
It happened fast. Luke, still bound and shackled, was lead into the shuttle. There was a sudden flash of red light and Luke was punched backward. He rolled and fell from the ramp onto the hard snow beneath.
A camera darted in for a close up and they saw Thecla, for it was clearly Thecla, being wrestled to the ground. The picture suddenly burst into static and another view, a more distant view appeared as the holonet switched cameras.
They saw Vader kneel by Luke…
And the feed abruptly ended.
Careful not to touch the activation stud of the lightsaber, Leia wiped away the ice crystals that had adhered to the metal and placed it back upon the cabinet. She would have to find somewhere safer to keep it. Perhaps Han would keep it on the Falcon. Luke would want it kept, Luke would want it looked after. It had belong to his father.
But not yet, she wouldn't give it to Han just yet.
Taking in a breath Leia headed to her small private fresher to quickly wash away her tears in cold water – she might go to the Falcon later today and beg Han to use his shower. Perhaps a proper shower with hot water would help her feel better, would help her shake this unsettling feeling that something, somewhere was still very wrong.
ooOOoo
To be continued...